


Pizza and a Box Set?

by ladypigswagon



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College AU, M/M, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypigswagon/pseuds/ladypigswagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles slumps against the tiny kitchen table, the criminology textbook cradling his aching skull. He just wants to gorge on fast food and preferably hibernate until the semester is over. Perhaps he should just give up on the whole degree thing and go live in the woods like a wild man, Be one with nature or whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza and a Box Set?

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked: Box set and pizza, could you like make it a college au for Sterek please

Stiles slumps against the tiny kitchen table, the criminology textbook cradling his aching skull. He just wants to gorge on fast food and preferably hibernate until the semester is over. Perhaps he should just give up on the whole degree thing and go live in the woods like a wild man, Be one with nature or whatever. 

Derek snorts, sipping tea delicately. His pinky is out and everything. Stiles assumes that his lack of brain to mouth filter is in play. 

“I could so live in the woods,” Stiles retorts bitterly. 

“You can barely live in the city,” Derek replies, elegantly turning the page of his archaic languages textbook. Ugh why did Stiles have a sarcastic literature student for a roommate again? Oh that's right, cause Scott bailed on him at the last second to move in with Allison. Not that Stiles doesn’t love Allison like a sister but still, he was left hanging. His advert on Craigslist spat out Derek and here they are, a ‘ickle first year’ desperate for something greasy and ‘douchenozzle of a third year’ drinking tea like he’s the Queen of England. 

“Dear god, please can we order in tonight,” Stiles begs, resting his chin on the textbook over a particularly graphic photo of a dismembered corpse. “I’m too tired to even attempt cooking. All I can see before my eyes is different blood splatter patterns.”

Derek narrows his eyes. Stiles knows that Derek despises fried food of any variety. It’s all healthy this and calories that and some of us actually want working arteries when we’re thirty. Derek’s cooking is sublime, Stiles won’t argue with that but he needs grease.

“Please Derek,” Stiles pleads, doe eyes in full force, “I need grease. I need it in my belly.” Stiles leans back in his chair to grip his stomach and wiggle it to make a point. 

“Feed me Derek,” Stiles says, adopting a rough, deep voice, “Feed me now.”

Derek sighs, placing his cup and textbook down gently on the table.

“Pizza and a box set?” Derek concedes. Pizza is the only greasy food Derek ever concedes too. Stiles takes the small blessings, thankful that Derek like pepperoni.

“Order ice cream too,” Stiles instructs, standing up to deposit his textbook back in his room so he can resist the urge to blitz it in Derek’s fancy blender, “And I only accept Peanut Butter Cup.”

“If I can get frozen yogurt instead,” Derek replies, “I’ll let you pick the box set.”

Stiles stops in his tracks, considering the offer. On the one hand he could force Derek to finally watch Gravity Falls, on the other hand frozen yoghurt. It’s a difficult decision. Considering that Derek will probably make him watch something dull like that weird English programme Coast with the strange Scottish man waxing poetic about the UK coastline, frozen yoghurt isn’t that big of a concession. 

“Fine, but no take backs,” Stiles says, pointing a finger at Derek and assuming a mock threatening face. Derek does that thing with his eyebrows when he’s unimpressed and dials the local pizza place they both agree on. One of the few things they do agree on, along with that Black Widow needs a movie and Isaac needs to abandon the scarves, at least in Summer.

Stiles neglects to tell Derek what they’re watching until they’re settled on the sofa. Derek is balancing his plate on a tray, cutting his pizza with actual cutlery because he’s a gentleman. Stiles is eating it out of the box with his hands because he’s an animal.

“I am not watching a Disney program,” Derek snaps, “I am not eight years old.”

“Alright old man,” Stiles replies, “You can tell me cold war stories later but you have your frozen yoghurt, so shut up and enjoy.”

Three episodes in and Derek is hooked. He laughs at the inappropriate jokes that slipped past the censorship and even agrees to eating the frozen yoghurt out of the carton. 

Around episode 15, Stiles slides down on the squishy sofa to lie on his side, his head close to Derek’s thigh. Derek never puts his feet on the sofa. Stiles tucks his up to his chest, noting that he has a hole in his sock. 

Episode 17 is when Stiles begins to feel sleepy. It’s also when Derek’s hand starts to stroke Stiles hair, gentle and almost timid. Stiles leans up into it, always relishing in affection. That’s how Stiles ends up in Derek’s lap, Derek’s strong but soft hands playing with his hair.

“Next time we do date activities,” Stiles says, “You can treat me to a nice fancy restaurant and I’ll even let you teach me which fork to use. I promise I won’t even stab myself with it.”

“Next time?” Derek questions but it’s warm and hopeful.

“Yeah,” Stiles replies, “At the end of the semester, proper date.”

“We’ll be having sex before then?”

“Obviously.”

“Ok.”


End file.
